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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26700952">What Lights The Way</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyricwritesprose/pseuds/lyricwritesprose'>lyricwritesprose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action, Collaboration, F/M, Heist, POV Pairs, Plotty</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:41:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,784</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26700952</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyricwritesprose/pseuds/lyricwritesprose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt never intended to rob the British museum.  Anathema never intended to be the sole line of defense against dark forces.  But there is something in the museum that desperately needs to be returned, or else.</p>
<p>Between Newt’s techno-curse and Anathema’s witchcraft, they actually have the abilities they need to pull this off.  They have a good plan.  It’s going to go like clockwork.  Right?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>GO-Events POV Pairs Works</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>What Lights The Way</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>“The camera,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> the voice outside the closet said, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“is completely banjaxed.  Won’t respond at all.  What have you been doing to the motherboard, anyway?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The other voice was weary, as if the man were expecting this diagnosis.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>“How soon before you can have us a new one?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Look, security cameras like this don’t grow on trees, you know.  A couple of hours to get it, another couple of hours to install it.  Overtime applies.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ll get back to you,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> the second voice said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You do that.  Any idea what happened right before it went out?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Some bloke was standing underneath it, that’s all.  Nobody touched it.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“At least you know it isn’t part of a robbery, then,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>the first voice said.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Just plain bad luck.  Not like anyone would want to steal this calligraphy stuff, anyway.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Footsteps moved away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Newt, who was the bloke who had stood underneath the camera, let out a long, slow breath of relief.  The camera was out, and likely to stay out.  Part one of the plan was working, then.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Robbing the British Museum was not, strictly speaking, on Newt’s bucket list.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was hiding in a closet in the calligraphy exhibit, waiting for the Museum to become inactive, right beside Anathema.  But he hadn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>intended</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be, exactly.  Things happened to Newt.  Things like getting involved in a ghost hunter YouTube show right out of school and actually encountering what seemed to be real ghosts, in an episode that would have made all their reputations if the cameras had managed to survive what the ghost hunters had bitterly dubbed the Pulsifer curse.  That had just happened to him.  Getting tangled up with a feral disaster Scot with a nipple obsession, which had led directly to Newt being chastised for global warming by duck aliens and possibly helping save the world a bit: that had just happened to him.  Becoming involved with the most brilliant, impressive, talented, and slightly scary witch in the world: that had just happened to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shifted position in the closet, as quietly as possible.  Beside him, he could hear Anathema trying not to make any noise breathing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Robbing the British Museum hadn't been on Anathema's agenda either.  She had intended, she told Newt, to see if there was any place for her in the European witchcraft scene, possibly take a vacation, decide what she was supposed to do with her life now that the pressure of prophecy was gone.  But then the British Museum had acquired a new exhibit.  An ever-burning lamp, of the sort that had been left in certain special medieval tombs.  This one was from Croatia, on indefinite loan from the Croatian government for reasons that would probably make Anathema mutter darkly about cultural imperialism.  The mechanism which kept it burning was still being investigated.  The scientists said it had something to do with radium, and thus the lamp was to be kept behind a special glass.</span>
</p>
<p><span>"I don't care if the physical effect is created by radium or not," Anathema had told Newt, leafing through several newspapers at the table of Jasmine Cottage.  Newt took a quick peek and saw that one of them was the </span><em><span>Fortean</span></em> <em><span>Times.</span></em><span>  "These lamps were typically left in tombs when it was important that whatever was in there </span><em><span>stays dead.</span></em><span>  There are things that gain power in the darkness.  If </span><em><span>someone</span></em><span> doesn't restore that lamp to whatever it was guarding, things could get bad."</span></p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh," Newt said, and then, "how bad, exactly?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Not end of the world bad," Anathema conceded.  "Possibly Beast of Gevaudan bad, though."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Beast of what?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That, Newt should have realized, was a good way to get loaded down with literature.  So now he knew about French monsters, werewolves, and assorted other creatures.  Rather too much for his peace of mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The British Museum, of course, wasn't about to restore the ever-burning lamp to the tomb it had come from.  The British Museum didn't give back the things it had taken, regardless of the dicey relationship some of its acquisitions had to do with legality or propriety.  "I was going to put the Elgin Marbles on my letter-writing list," Anathema told Newt, "but in between writing letters about Monsanto and Nestle and rainforest destruction and eliminating American dependence on coal, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> studying the prophecies as they got closer and closer, it just wasn't a priority.  I feel guilty about that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You can't be an activist for </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> the causes in the world," Newt felt compelled to point out.  "You'd never have time to breathe.  And you can't live all your life for other people, anyway."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anathema, Newt had come to realize, had only a limited understanding of how to live life for herself, rather than in the service of an Ancestress or a Book or a Cause.  Which meant that while he might not be the brightest boyfriend, or the most exciting boyfriend, he was a boyfriend who could say things like, "I'm making us lemon sponge cake because we both deserve it, and we're not going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>worry</span>
  </em>
  <span> about how to support reforestation in Africa tonight," and sometimes Anathema needed that more than she needed air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which was why, when Anathema put down the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fortean Times</span>
  </em>
  <span> with a sigh and said, "I don't see a way around it, we're going to have to steal the lamp," Newt's first objection was, "Why us?"  It wasn't fair that Anathema felt like saving the world was her sole responsibility.  It was even less fair that sometimes, she seemed to be right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Who else is going to do it?" Anathema countered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't know.  Isn't there a witches . . . society . . ."  Newt was vague on how witches arranged things.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Less a society,” Anathema said.  “More ‘several organized arguments.’”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Besides, my mother is from a Puerto Rican magical family, and we do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> get along with several of the magical circles in Europe.  It comes down to colonialism, it’s complicated, but the upshot is that if I went to the Hermetic Order of This-and-that and told them that we might soon have some sort of undead monstrosity decimating Croatia, they probably wouldn’t believe me and they might laugh me out of the room.  Look, we’re the people on the spot, we’re the ones who recognize the danger, that means we’re the people who have to act, and—”  She took a deep breath.  “And I don’t know if I can do it without you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m in,” Newt said instantly, because it was Anathema, and even if he hadn’t been motivated by the specter of undead monstrosities prowling some village in Croatia, he really didn’t have the knack of saying no to Anathema.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now, as they waited, he wondered if he shouldn’t have been firmer.  If they were caught, they would go to quite a lot of prison.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The light coming from under the door cut off, making the darkness more complete.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Newt felt, rather than saw, Anathema check her watch.  Among the things they had acquired to assist in the robbery were a pair of Braille watches, which could be read with fingers without the need for light.  Newt, to his surprise, quite liked his.  It was heavy and old-fashioned and involved nothing more complex than a small battery and clockwork, which meant that it had a good chance of surviving the Pulsifer Curse.  He opened the glass cover that made it look like a normal watch and felt for the time himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Almost time.  They had successfully waited, not only until the museum was closed, but until the curators were gone, leaving only various security personnel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was quiet now.  Well, not really </span>
  <em>
    <span>quiet, </span>
  </em>
  <span>they were in the middle of London and the central heating was on, at this time of year, but there were no footsteps, and that was what Newt really cared about.  There was quite a lot of potential to get caught.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Newt had worked out some of the museum's security from what he had been delighted to describe as "an old hackers' trick."  Which was perfectly true: hackers used, "call up, sound official, and ask," more than they used actual computer hacking.  Newt had found this deeply disappointing when he first learned about it.  His dream job, at the time, had been the sort of security consultant that breaks into someone's systems just to see how it could be done.  Now, though, he reasoned that if someone as disreputable as Sergeant Shadwell could repeatedly con people out of coffee money by having no shame, someone as comparatively sane as Newt could find out the basics of the security systems.  And he had.  Basically.  Sort of.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knew not to touch any of the exhibits, anyway.  All right, he hadn't got </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>much out of them.  Enough to have a basic idea of where the cameras were.  Enough to know, for instance, that the calligraphy room was a low-priority area, and to guess that a camera outage there was not going to be handled with the speed of a camera outage near the Parthenon sculptures.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But there was every possibility that they would have to improvise, and Newt was not confident in his improvisational skills.  He thought again about going to prison for a long time, and twitched.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anathema tapped him on the arm to alert him, and then eased the door open.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The calligraphy room was dark, and there were no signs of any security personnel's torches.  At length, Newt turned his torch on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nobody.  Nothing.  Well, nothing except cases of frankly lovely illuminated manuscripts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Good.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were wearing masks, in case they were caught by the cameras.  Newt had stood under several key cameras, but that was no guarantee of anything.  The Pulsifer Curse, if Anathema was right about how it worked, played silly buggers with probability rather than breaking the laws of physics.  Any time you had probability involved, there was a possibility of things going wrong.  Or right, if you were one of the cameras in question.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They slid into the Prints room together, silently.  Newt had paused in this room, too.  He already knew that he probably didn’t have much appreciation for the finer points of art, but he did like some of the prints; he had an affinity for the more fiddly, complicated ones.  Perhaps that was why he liked the illuminated manuscripts; medieval monks, it seemed, had never met a capital letter that couldn’t be a bit more capital.  But there was no point in thinking about that now.  They had a long way to go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ever-burning lamp was near the Holy Thorn Reliquary Room.  Which made a sort of sense, Newt thought, putting medieval thingies near medieval wossnames, but it was a long way from the calligraphy room.  They had a good deal of ground to cover.  First, they had to get down to the camera room—wipe the cameras of any evidence—and then take out the museum’s main power, which would take out the power to the alarms.  And </span>
  <em>
    <span>then</span>
  </em>
  <span> they had to get the ever-burning lamp, which had to go in a special toolbox just in case the apparent flame really was some sort of radium effect, and get out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They hadn’t even begun to think about how they were going to get it to Croatia.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Probably should think about that at some point.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But at the moment, they just had to—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Newt stepped into the hallway between the prints room and the mummies and realized abruptly that there was a man there already, turning in surprise to face him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Time slowed down as Newt’s brain tried to run dozens of scenarios for getting out of this, and came up blank on every single one.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hallo, so glad to see a friendly face, we were lost?</span>
  </em>
  <span>  No.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>My goodness, we took a long time in the loo, it looks almost as if everything’s closed?</span>
  </em>
  <span>  No.  Newt’s mouth opened, preparatory to stuttering out some sort of plausible excuse, which was a somewhat surreal feeling because his brain had already run through them all and realized that there </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> no plausible excuse.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hello, jolly good job apprehending intruders, if this had been a </span>
  </em>
  <span>real</span>
  <em>
    <span> case of intruders, of course, it would get a lot more complicated but as this happens it was only a test—</span>
  </em>
  <span>  No.  There were certain situations that came with a certain presumption of guilt, like trying to shove the crown jewels down the back of your trousers, and sneaking around the British Museum at night wearing masks was one of them—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anathema darted past Newt and shoved something directly at the guard.  Something that burst with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>paff,</span>
  </em>
  <span> sending a cloud into the shocked man’s face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Time sped up again.  Newt stepped backwards abruptly, smelled something herbal through his mask, and . . . ooh . . . no time to be dizzy right now, </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad</span>
  </em>
  <span> idea to be dizzy right now, he couldn’t afford to be dizzy right now—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The guard toppled to the floor, hitting his head with a noise that made Newt wince.  Probably not a concussion, but definitely a bruise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What was that?” Newt said faintly.  As far as he could tell, the guard was out cold.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Old witch formula.  For self-defense.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It contains a number of herbs that aren’t very legal, so I don’t have many of those.  And when they find him, they’ll know someone was here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Drag him back to the closet?” Newt suggested.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anathema shook her head.  “No time.  He’s big, it would take us a while, and he’s bound to be expected to check in at some point.  No, I think we have to speed up the timetable somehow.  Speed it way up.”  She took a deep breath.  “You’re not going to like this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Newt had watched enough telly to understand that when people said, </span>
  <em>
    <span>let’s split up,</span>
  </em>
  <span> someone was going to have an impressively bad day, and he had a feeling that Anathema was going to say—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We have to split up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yep, there it was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have to do the security systems.  I’ll go directly to the Reliquary Room.”  She took the heavy tool case.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you’re not with me, the cameras won’t malfunction until I can malfunction them all at once, and people will see you—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll have to risk it.  We know where most of the cameras are, anyway.  And I don’t think they patrol the restaurant area much.  Who breaks into the British Museum to steal the cash box?  I’ll cut through there.  If you try to have everything off by—”  She checked her watch.  “Eleven, I’ll start my run through the Enlightenment Galleries then, get the lamp, and then we make it to the entrance separately.  Meet up back at the car.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dick Turpin was nobody’s idea of a getaway car, but more than the prospect of being in a car chase, Newt found himself haunted by the idea of waiting for Anathema, and waiting for Anathema, and Anathema never coming.  “I don’t like it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We don’t have time to argue, Newt!  We’ve got to do this, and we’ve got to do it </span>
  <em>
    <span>fast,</span>
  </em>
  <span> before someone comes and finds out that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> she nodded to the guard, “is taking a nap on the job.  Here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are these?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Herbs.  Two packets.  I’m guessing that there will be one person in the camera room and one person in central power.  At least, I hope I’m right.  When you use them, don’t miss, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t breathe in.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I got that,” Newt said, taking the packets.  “Are there long-term effects?  I mean, I’m not actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>poisoning</span>
  </em>
  <span> anyone . . .”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Things taste funny for days after, but it’s not permanent.  I should know, I got myself with it the first time I mixed up a batch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.  Good.  That’s good.”  Newt’s thoughts caught up with his mouth.  “I mean, not good that you knocked yourself out.  That’s not good.  I mean, good that—”  He gestured towards the guard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anathema looked at him.  “Tell me something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn’t hit the guy with the toolbox.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Newt looked down at his hand, startled.  That’s right, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> been holding the toolbox, hadn’t he?  He could have just swung it.  All that dithering about excuses, and the fact that there were none, and he’d had a weapon in his hand all along—  “I didn’t think of it.  Besides, I could have hurt him.  I mean, knocking a person out, it isn’t like in the movies, is it?  It’s not just </span>
  <em>
    <span>bang,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and then </span>
  <em>
    <span>ow, my head,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and then an action sequence where everything’s okay again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anathema pulled down her mask and kissed Newt on the cheek.  Newt blinked several times.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’d better go,” Anathema said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eleven o’clock.  Right.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had a little over twenty minutes.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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